Oh, My Devil Dear, You Are So Cruel
by abitoftea
Summary: A one shot following season 6 when Bonnie, Kai, and Damon are in the Prison World—and after. Extremely AU.


**Timeline: Follows season 6 when Bonnie, Kai, and Damon are in the Prison World—and after. TVD and extremely AU**

 **Character(s): Bonnie, Kai, Damon**

 **Fandom(s): The Vampire Diaries**

 **Words: 3,450**

 **Warning(s): Angst; dark themes; explicit situations**

 **Summary: "It's complicating me sometimes, this Love-Hate-Sex-Pain" -Godsmack**

* * *

 _When she's stood at his door, glowing from the pre-dawn mist, he waits in the archway, calm and patient. If there's something he knew about Bonnie (and he knew them all), it was that she liked to think she was the one in control—that she was the one who proposed first, and he a mere instrument in her rebellion. But he wouldn't be so vexed, for when she crossed that threshold, he would have finally had her, completely and bound._

* * *

And so, as Damon began his usual tirade of things she'd rather not hear, she caught a glimpse of a familiar shadow.

Paranoia was not a concept of Bonnie's persona. There were things that caused the receptors in her mind to ding like an alarm, but it wasn't always so until the vampires came into Mystic Falls, and thus set off a riptide of supernatural events. And in this constant repeat of the same year, those receptors had been going off in urgency. It took for her to finally step away from the puerile vamp for her to finally have some peace of mind.

But it was in her lonely that she felt him leer—the ghost that hovered in her wake as she managed a life in 1994.

Bonnie ignored the warning signs. It was apart of her resolution. She'd take things in stride and slowly opt her way from the responsibilities of others. Now one could say that was never possible when she, Bonnie Bennett, was so willing to play the mediator, but in due time (and time was not a factor) she'd show them all.

Maybe it was the loss of her magic—as Damon felt need to remind her so vehemently.

No. She was changed. And so her little ghost was out of luck, until...

Until he cowered amidst the fire's blaze, holding his hands up in surrender. She smiled at her glorious feat, the notions of her quest to leave the supernatural were lost on her. But when the fear crumbled, and those blues turned ripe with primal lust, she'd wavered. And he grinned.

* * *

He was Kai, Malachai Parker, but preferred just, "Kai."

He spoke too often, and always in a passion. And she found it funny that when she chose to talk next, he'd faced her, attentive and never wavering. He'd dip his nose just a tad, and swept his cool blues up at her, giving a pert smile. And if he was feeling cheeky, he'd wink.

"You're just not used to guys flirting with you."

She'd take it as an insult if it weren't—in the slightest—true.

Bonnie had flirted, and been flirted with...

 _Fuck._

Bonnie wasn't some flushing maiden. She wouldn't deliberately put herself on a stand to be gawked at, but she wouldn't play prude either. However she'd be remiss to say she has never been flirted with one who called himself a sociopath.

"Is that your diagnosis, or are we fair to assume you've gone through the proper procedures?"

His eyes were no longer on the Ascendent, but on her, as they always were when she spoke. For a time he only stared. She could see the slight twitch in the right corner of his mouth that told her he wanted to be coy.

And he was, saying, "Never, but wanna play doctor?"

* * *

Kai was a display of arrogance, and she was sure he knew.

He walked round the Salvatore Manor, head held high, and a pep in his step.

"You make me all jittery, Bon, Bon," he said in lieu of her suggesting he should sit down.

He loved to tempt Damon, make snide remarks that had the vampire wanting to kill him. And it had gotten so bad that Bonnie had to step between the two just to make amends. But Kai—damn Kai.

He gave an awful giggle that hadn't matched him, and made the leering gaze he set on Bonnie all the more sinister. "I was just telling Damon about our little rendezvous, and he got so," he elongated the 'O's', "mad."

"And I told him he must be delusional—no surprise there—and nothing happened." He winked, adding, "Just protecting your honor, Bonnie."

She pressed her palms against Damon's chest, pushing him until he was at the opposite end of the entertainment center.

A rendezvous had not happened.

But nothing—just _nothing_ , was, in fact, _something_.

"He's only trying to rile you." Bonnie nods once, twice, until he too is agreeing with her, and all notions of what he could have possibly thought, were long gone.

But when she sat in the den, minding herself with livid scrutiny, he was right there, just as tumultuous, for reason she couldn't discern. It was an accident.

"It wasn't an accident."

It was.

And it would never happen again.

* * *

It happened again.

Elena invaded Damon's every thought in righteous ferocity, and bonnie was never amiss to those vocal musings—the ones he'd give with bitter taste about her not being the eternity he'd imagined. She understood his humor, and only appreciated it when she wasn't so racked with finding a way out of the Prison World and far from Kai.

"I can take the edge off," he came, a light song in his voice.

"Just work on the Ascendant."

"He's not round here if that's your worry?"

She was ready for another reason, one that would shut him down entirely, but she paused. "What?" Bonnie took the Ascendant from him, stared him down with cause and displeasure. "Why did he leave?"

Kai shrugged, steadily trying to reach for the Ascendant. "He said he needed a breather. Personally, I'm glad he's gone. He would just go on and on about kicking my ass, and this chick...what was her name?"

"He needs a breather? He needs one?"

"That is what he said."

Bonnie nearly dropped the Ascendant in her tantrum, to which Kai told her to be cautious. "If anyone needs a time, or a breather, it's me—I deserve something for all the bullshit I've been through..."

Bonnie stands straight, silent and embarrassed. She can't find the strength to move right then when Kai decided to wrap his fingers round her knucklebones. He holds her there in what she assumed would be some trap, but no, he just holds her there.

He said, "Yeah, I hear you." And Bonnie had never felt so riveted and valued by someone—someone who was all malicious intent. Yet for this time, only this time, he'd let the mask fall.

She would say it was all a lie, the way he looked at her, like she was his light in the desolate sorrow known as his life. He calculated and planned every little thing that struck his path. And when Bonnie fell into his lap, trapped him between her thighs, and bit at the bottom left corner of his lip; he grinned so wicked, and she knew he had her.

And that was fine.

Because the day came when he thought he'd won. He'd worn his triumph like a crown, and she'd so proudly snatched it from him, figuring it be better suited for her instead. It was safe to say that the boy was none to sweet about her greed. He'd thrown a tantrum in the cave, as if that would bring Damon back.

As if that would bring her magic back.

As if that would make her stay and prattle on with him for the rest of her misery.

"Oh, someone going to be put in time out," he sang, right when she was out of the cave and planning her distant future far from Malachai Parker. "This is what karma looks like, huh, Bon, Bon? Now there's no one here to stop our fun."

* * *

He whisked her away—kept her high enough that everything she knew, her friends, her family, and school, seemed a false memory. It was not that she had them in disregard. But hell, when she came down, on her back, restless and irate, Kai slipped between her thighs and kissed her dizzy.

It was enigmatic how a touch from him could have her saying the most vile things of, "Take me," and, "I want you to fuck me"

He'd never been so flushed, nor ignorant to her demands. He said if this was hell, then heaven was her wrapped around his cock and singing his name.

Bonnie never understood his prose. He was an odd sort, not fully in his right mind, she knew. She hadn't cared.

On days like these when the silence reigned an awful heavy, Kai would seek her out with a hot wired grin and blue eyes aflame.

"It's no fun when you're two feet away."

And so she'd run, far, to another town.

At one pint, he'd found her in an antique shop. She'd always loved the things that lived more lives than she. Bonnie told him so, and he'd knocked the beautiful trinkets to the ground to pin her to the table.

He was always rough—fast—taking what he wanted without cause, and Bonnie believed she knew him enough to expect what was to come.

But then he said, "it's all right,"

Sex. That's all it was. That was all it'll ever be, like a pact to which they compromise solidarity. "You have your side, I have mine." But she never had a side. It was always his.

He'd stood in the bedroom doorway. She'd been writing words into letters she'd never send. This wasn't unusual, him fancying a watchful eye on her.

He changed routine by coming behind her. Kai drummed his fingers in soft motions upon her flesh. He leaned into her hair, unnerving her when he took a light inhale that lasted longer than it should.

Bonnie stood from her place at oak desk and turned. Something was different. She'd seen his emotions, even the ones that he thought were so easily hidden. Now, he gave blue hunger—the one that came with not just lust, but loneliness—depressing and desperate.

He kissed her like a boy, shy and unsure. Not the man he'd displayed all the many times before. He'd lean away, waiting for her. Bonnie was unsure too. But she pressed her lips to his, because solitude was boring, and fucking the devil was at least something.

Yes, sex. That's all it ever was.

Bonnie supposed, that when she got on her knees (because independence was pointless in a world of just two) to free his erection. She'd delegated from the flushing virgin who only ever gave herself when love was in the mixture.

She didn't love him.

She took her time to admire the one thing he gave to her time and time again, felt along the ripples in the skin, and delighted in the sounds he'd hiss into the quiet air. And when she took him in her mouth, allowing her tongue to caress patterns into his skin, he cried the loveliest of sounds.

Kai laced his fingers through her tresses, bringing her to her feet and put on the mattress. Still the beast no doubt, but he further surprised her when he looked on her in that apologetic way that might make her forgive him and everything he was about.

It was his hands, maybe? They could make her forgive him, after a long run of cat and mouse, Kai would pin her down, one hand on her hip, and the other wrapped her neck. Then, his fingers brush along the soft of her skin, pinching the sweet spots that make her throat hitch.

Or maybe, it was his mouth? When he wasn't being coy and talking incessantly, he was giving wet kisses like a lover, ones that lasted much too long for a casual frenzy, but oh, when he'd dip between her bare thighs, she couldn't care.

Even when Kai spoke, "I can tie two cherry stems, at the same time, with just my tongue"

And when she replied, "So," because his boasting was just that unbearable; he'd granted to show her a few times.

He pulled her thighs farther apart, and he liked to admire every part of her, imprinting all that she was in his mind. He voiced all the little things in a soft whisper, and almost as if it was a secret meant only for him to hear, but she heard it all. A word pressed into every spot his tongue touched.

 _And oh, the touch of his tongue._

Bonnie writhes and moans, unable to keep quiet. He had her open, dripping for him as he pulled at all the right nerves. He said he liked to taste her—all of her, and wishing he could give her some, just a little of that poison she's drugged him with. He pressed a quick kiss, nipped at the flesh of her inner thigh, before he meets her gaze again. He hovered over her, confident and passionate, but then she saw the strain, like he'd forgotten who he was. Those devil eyes that held such unbridled and all consuming wrath, were regarded with adoration.

He was a boy, a lonely boy. Bonnie pressed her hand to his chest and felt the rabid beats. He whimpered, just when her thumb caressed over his left cheek. Something had changed in him, complicated and mixed his brain into thinking that she was his everything.

So he kissed her, like a lover—all sweet agony. And when he slips into her, it was no longer rough and primal. He took his time with each thrust, cupped his hands under her ass and held her up so his hips slapped perfectly against hers. And the feeling was just euphoric, the way he stretched and filled her, the smell of his skin and the lilt of his voice when he said, "Bonnie...fuck." She got a little confident—a little a high from his praise. She wanted more, she wanted him to tremble when she wrapped herself so tightly round his waist, and dug her heels and nails into his back.

But then he stopped, lifts his weight and looks on her again. "Look at me," he says in demand, but Bonnie heard him beseech her.

"Look at me." He implored this so often in their sex, she was beginning to believe that it was the only way he could finish—only if she was watching him with the pleasure masking her face, and all the hatred she'd had before was well and done.

What were they to him? Lovers? Adversaries who occasionally fucked on the weekends?

It was sex. But it was more than that too.

* * *

When he left her in the Prison World, crossed her with no word as to why, her lasting gaze was one he expected, but not one he'd thought he'd feel.

Sure, he'd smiled at the cashier when he bought a much needed change of clothes, felt the rousing drive course his veins when he strangled that taxi-man, and simply loved the thrill of catching up with old friends; but there was no greater headache than when Bon, Bon crept her way into his mind. She stared at him with those bright green eyes, that had him on his knees, had his hollow chest constrict in awful pains he hadn't known since before her time, and that was, well, that was pretty crappy. It was selfish of her to just pop in like she owned him—owned his very being.

She shouldn't be so vexed, he thought. After all, Kai had let her in—let her in the most secretive of places. Those places that were only for him and him alone. But for her, he gave her everything.

And it was a sordid affair, the more he thought on it. She didn't love him, and she never gave the same. But there is an expectation he can't quite shake. There are many in fact, but Kai settled on the one. The one that told him that Bonnie—Bonnie Bennett was more than just a distraction.

The problem was that it took him so long to realize.

In a world where everything was a single period upon the same exact moment in which his failure was the grandest as they came, it was hard to experience the value of what others would determine to be, "a good thing." The expression of _what is_ , _never was_ , or _will be_ , never adhered in a place so resolute. It was all the same—same, boring, repetitive outcome, so why had he not believed that she would be the same? Could he be blamed for such a thought?

Possibly.

But when he walked the town and saw the people for what they were the, same, boring, repetitive nature; he could only feel absolute in his decisions.

On the streets, he watched them all—watched their love bore through like life, like they were depended on the very notion of being in love, and loving someone that wasn't just them. He applauded the light in their eyes, the heat under their skin, and it was all a remembrance of her—that tiny girl who'd burrowed under his flesh in a sudden passion of fury, and somehow made home in him without his say so.

"It was an accident," she'd say after every heavy verve, after all the hair pulling, bite, scratch, and...and every slow caress, soft whimper, and the many times she'd simply sit there as if he'd just stay and hold her without saying anything.

He needed that the most. He needed the times when it was her on one side, he on the other, and the silence. Yes, the silence. Because this silence was different. It was warm, and inviting, and peaceful. It wasn't lonely.

He was lonely.

He never realized before, because before she was there, underneath him, chanting his name like it was the only word she knew. Her desire borne from the same selfish need as he, but hers was a cruel mischief. His lovely little vixen rocked his mind the same way her ample hips had when she rode him.

He spent the days tormenting others, because he was wrecked—her red leash pulling him and pulling him to her. He needed her humanity, her fervor, wrapped round him, and panting golden hymns.

And he was alone again. And it was all his fault.

But it was hers too, he soon understood.

She came back. She oversaw all her feats like he knew she would. The almost downfall from her misery, that had him desperate and lost all over when she decided his world was no longer for her, but she came back, stronger.

And she decided that she no longer needed him—no longer wanted him, like he needed her. Those eyes produced no sympathy or joy. She was Bonnie Bennett—just Bonnie Bennett, before Malachai Parker, and no inkling of ever had been.

He could no longer get drunk off her. He could no longer go to her and feel the electricity of her magic. She wasn't his anymore.

And for that, he was truly lonely.

And she would get no compassion when the hail of his anguish reigned upon her with right vehemence.

But this was Bonnie. And when she'd stood at his door, glowing from the pre-dawn mist, he takes no time to wrap his fingers round her neck and await the prayer that he knows will fall past those pert lips. But she was calm, and patient, ready to let him have his end. If there was something he knew about Bonnie (and he knew them all), it was that she liked to think she was the one in control—and hell, she was, whilst he was a mere instrument in her rebellion.

It was infuriating, but oh, if she only knew how little he cared. Because when she crossed that threshold, there was not an utterance to be had that would be against him.

And suddenly, everything was okay. Because Kai would finally have her—in this world of tedious agony; he had Bonnie... _forever_.

* * *

 **AN:**

 **I feel horrible, and believe this is probably just as horrible, but I hope maybe it's just me...and I originally called this something else based off a song from The Weeknd (because The Weeknd, brah—always puts me in the mood to write ;)), but as I got in the flow of writing it, the song didn't fit.**

 **Happy Holidays and see you all in the new year xxx**


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